


When The Lark Struck Gold

by QueenOfRohirrim



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Crossdressing, Lambert wears pretty thongs, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:09:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26720437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRohirrim/pseuds/QueenOfRohirrim
Summary: Jaskier is doing the laundry when he discovers a lovely pair of Lambert’s underwear.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Comments: 4
Kudos: 148





	When The Lark Struck Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Lambert definitely wears thongs, ya’ll. All the time. If he can’t wear his dresses all over the continent, then he’s damn sure gonna at least wear something pretty underneath all that armor!

Jaskier hummed a little tune to himself as he sat on the couch before the hearth, folding the basket full of clean laundry that had been brought inside from the line and organizing the clothes into distinct piles for every witcher.

Technically, this was supposed to be Eskel’s duty for the week, but the scarred wolf had been sent out earlier that morning to take care of a harpy nest that sat too near the keep for Vesemir’s liking.

Jaskier didn’t mind helping out his witchers every once in awhile anyway. In fact, he found that he quite enjoyed aiding in the daily upkeep of the wolves den.

“Oh, dear, sweetest Geralt.” The bard sighed as he folded yet another black shirt and placed it into his lover’s pile. “I really must introduce you to a bit of color soon.”

He shook his head in disappointment, reaching back into the basket to grab another shirt or pair of trousers. What he found was something entirely different and suddenly he was less disappointed and more...well, curious would probably be an appropriate word...and somewhat aroused as well.

“Ohh,” He gasped quietly to himself, eyes wide as they beheld the lacy red thong he’d pulled from the wolves’ mountain of clothes. “Whoever do you lovelies belong to?”

They weren’t Geralt’s of course. Jaskier would surely have noticed by now if his white wolf was into wearing pretty undergarments.

“Jaskier...” Oh, sweet gods! That beautiful grumbling growl at such a moment was only adding to the bard’s dirty thoughts.

“Dearest darling,” He greeted Geralt with a cheeky smile. “Abandoning your work again to keep the poor lonely human company? I really should insist that we-“

“What are you doing?” Geralt inquired, the warning tone to his voice anything but mild or hinting. 

Jaskier turned his head to look at his wolf, eyebrow raised, as his task should’ve been obvious. “Folding laundry.” He informed Geralt anyway. “Why are you looking at me as if I’ve just committed some terrible crime, darling?”

“Put those away.” Geralt growled, nodding to the scandalous undergarments in Jaskier’s hands. “Quickly.”

Jaskier’s grin suddenly grew wider. “This isn’t a little secret of yours you’ve been keeping from me?” He crooned to his beloved. “Oh, my sweet wolf, how on earth could you not tell me?”

“They’re not mine!” Geralt huffed. “Now put them down before Lambert sees. If he knows you so much as looked at-“

“These belong to LAMBERT!?” Jaskier squealed with delight. “Oh, sweet Melitele! No wonder that arse is so shapely.”

“Jaskier...” Mmm again with that growl.

“Have you ever seen him wearing them?” The gleeful bard wagged his eyebrows at the wolf.

“Yes.” Geralt admitted, a pink blush beginning to settle over his cheeks. 

“Oh, my dear, you are a fortunate wolf indeed.”

“What the fuck are you doing!?” A demanding snarl came from the castle’s front doors. “Where did you get those!?” Lambert stomped towards them with fire in his eyes, so filled with rage that Geralt swore he could see steam blowing from his brother’s nostrils as if he were a raging bull and not a wolf.

The silver Witcher protectively stepped closer to the couch where Jaskier sat, just in case his extra strength was needed to quell a fit before it escalated to the point of danger.

“Now, now, darling...” Jaskier was unafraid, as always, of the snapping wolf before him. “Don’t upset yourself over nothing. I was just doing the laundry for everyone.” He folded the panties and placed them in the pile he’d made for Lambert. “Apologies if I’ve offended. I was hoping those belonged to Geralt.”

The younger Witcher’s eyes shot his elder brother a brief look that clearly translated to “I’m going to kill him” and Geralt let out a wordless growl.

“You know, I’d love to see you wearing those pretty things...” Jaskier interrupted the almost fight. “Do you have anymore pairs, dear Lamb? Different colors perhaps? You should model a few for me sometime.”

Lambert’s face was growing red as he stared at Geralt and Jaskier. 

“Maybe.” He muttered finally. “But why should I show anything to you, Buttercup?”

“Oh, my darling, you don’t have to do anything.” Jaskier promised with a sly smile. “But you’ll want to do it because if you do, I’ll reward you for being a good little wolf.”

Geralt chuckled and took another pair of Lambert’s panties from the laundry basket, these ones black with pink embroidery. “He does have plenty of colors for a proper show.” He assured his mate as he looked the younger witcher up and down. “What do you say, Little Wolf? Wanna strip down for us?”

Lambert crossed his arms over his chest in a demanding fashion. “Eskel watches too.” He declared.

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be happy to.” Jaskier hummed pleasantly. 

“Fine then.” Lambert agreed. “But we’re doing it upstairs. Don’t want the old man to walk in and ruin the fun.”


End file.
